Drabbles
by White-Lily-Blossom
Summary: Four drabbles of different pairings: BillFluer, DracoPansy, SiriusBellatrix and HarryLuna. Explanations inside.


Desclaimer: Certainly not mine. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, a goddes on her own right, and I am marely someone trying to play with the star dust.

A/N: Me and my friends were bored, so we decided to give each other challenges- a pairing, three words we have to put into the text, and a word limit. Those are some of the drabbles (I haven't written them all yet).

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Bill/Fluer, containing the words: Lesson, kiss, shampoo. 250 words limit.

Bill opens the door, looking tall and handsome as ever. He smiles at her, his red hair dark and damp and sticking to the side of his face, dripping into the collar of his shirt, and Fluer feels a now familiar warmness settling in the pit of her stomach.

He gestures her in, taking her coat like the gentleman he is, and she smells his shampoo as she brushes past: wooden, like willow soap.

"Ready for the lesson?" he asks, as she follows him into the small kitchen, and they sit in the sturdy worn chairs around the table.

"Actually..." she says, leaning closer, her silvery-blond hair spilling over her shoulder in waves, taking care not to put too much weight on the table. It has uneven legs; she peeked once, and saw an old travel book stuffed under the unfortunate limb.

"I vaz thinking of zomething more... practical" Bill tilts his head, thoughtful and somewhat lazy, a gesture so Bill it is warmth in its self, and says "really?" as he grins at her through half-lidded eyes.

She nods, leaning even more, rickety furniture be damned.

"I like that idea" he tells her, as she slides into his lap, his hair cold and wet on her face as they kiss.

Fluer chuckles against his mouth. Somehow, she thought he would.

Word count: 222.

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Draco/Pansy, containing the words: Arranged, rose, ruby. 250 words limit.

To the two young people in the room, the event taking place is not a surprise, although they would both like to pretend it is.

The boy is kneeling, holding the girl's hand, his silvery-blond hair obscuring his hard gray eyes. The girl bites her lip, closes her eyes, and tries not to wince as he slips a ruby ring on her finger. Her other hand is curled around a rose, its thorns prickling her delicate fingers.

"Of course I would, Draco" she says in answer to the question neither of them wanted; not to hear, not to ask. They don't have a choice, really. It was all arranged when they were young, the old ways the chains that hold them back from this modern world.

They make a lovely picture together: pale skin and blue shadows and darkness deeper than both. They are purebloods, they both know, and it is stronger than they are, and what they want doesn't matter, never mattered. Purebloods, and less than the sums of their family names.

They stand together, apart, united in their helplessness and divided because of themselves.

Pansy fingers the ring, sticks out her chin, and turns her back on her dreams of love and naivete. They were never for the likes of her, anyway.

Draco stares ahead, silent and stiff, and doesn't think about a certain green-eyed boy he won't ever kiss again.

Word Count: 233.

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Sirius/Bellatrix, words: wallpaper, ebony, palms. 150 words at most.

They are ten. Sirius and Bellatrix lean close to each other, their hair, the same beautiful ebony hair the Blacks are so proud of, forming a canopy in front of their faces. It mingles together, Sirius' short bangs and Bella's long locks, like their breaths, which they exchange endlessly from one mouth to another, recycled, warm air.

They are in an old drawing room; the house has many, unused and forgotten. This room is relatively small, the wallpaper brown with age and peeling.

Sirius once told Bellatrix that he feels that if he will stay in this house too long, he will end old and peeling and fragile, like the wallpaper.

"We are the Blacks" she whispers to him now, their palms together, and he can feel the words vibrating in his mouth "we belong only here. And you belong with us".

He doesn't have the heart to correct her.

Word Count: 150.

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Harry/Luna : teeth, elbow, tissues. 125 words at most.

They sit together on a forgotten bench, tucked away under an ancient tree.

Luna traces the scar tissues on Harry's hand, _I Must Not Tell Lies_, and clicks her tongue against her teeth.

"Do you really?" she asks, dreamy voice and blue eyes far away, over the mountains and perhaps even the moon.

Harry's throat is dry. "Yes" he says, "I really do".

She nods, then laughs suddenly, turning to him, elbow knocking into his hipbone "you must not tell lies" she reminds him, and covers the words with her hand, smoothing the scars with her fingers.

"I love you too," she says softly, and they watch the moon together, legs dangling from the stone seat.

Word Count: 116.

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A/N: Upon reading my Draco/Pansy drabble, my friend sighed in annoyance and said "you just had to mention H/D in it, didn't you?" to which I, of course, replied "obviously".

Also, I really liked the Sirius/Bellatrix dynemics, and have written a short story of that pairing (it is my new pet pairing, you might say ), so expect it soon. I feel it is my best story yet.


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